Acts of Complicity
by Lena Inverse
Summary: YozakMurata, oneshot. Murata enlists Yozak's skills to keep a visiting diplomat from causing problems for Yuuri...and because some undertakings are just more fun with a partner.


Acts of Complicity

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is the property of creator Tomo Takabayashi and licensor Geneon Entertainment, Inc.

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Yozak had to admit that he was rather intrigued, and that certainly wasn't something that happened very often. Whatever he was being drawn into would undoubtedly prove quite the diversion; and a welcome one, considering the disappointing monotony of his latest assignments. The peace that the kiddo had somehow been able to forge was great for the kingdom, but also had a tendency to make life disturbingly boring for anyone who happened to be a spy.

But the promise of entertainment wasn't the only reason that Yozak was rushing to reach his destination. After all, it would be impolite to refuse such an invitation, particularly when one's host was the Great Sage of Shin Makoku.

It wouldn't do much good to speculate as to what exactly was in store for him. Yozak had learned early on that his exceptional skill at reading people only took him so far with Murata. That was part of what made His Highness so fascinating – as often as not, Yozak could guess the intent of Murata's actions but not the reason behind them, or vice versa. Taking into account his present situation, for example, he could say with certainty that whatever Murata wanted to talk about had something to do with the strategy session they'd just finished in Lord von Voltaire's office. And, if Yozak had judged his sidelong glance correctly – which he had, of course – it involved something that would need to be kept covert. But beyond that, who knew the depths of mystery lurking in Murata Ken's mind?

Yozak preferred not to know. Guessing at it was the intriguing part. Predictability was highly overrated, in Yozak's opinion. Nothing like the feeling of endless possibilities stretching out before you – or, in this case, on the other side of a thick wooden door – to make life interesting.

A quick glance down the corridor assured Yozak that he was alone, and then he opened the door and slipped inside. Yozak was actually eager to enter the royal library, which was unusual in and of itself. He moved silently, though more out of habit than necessity, weaving his way between the tall shelves and avoiding the waist-high stacks of tattered books that had probably been left that way for decades. The library wouldn't have been his ideal choice for a meeting place, quiet solitude and dusty scrolls not exactly being his favorite things, but it was private and, he had to admit, it sort of suited Murata. Yozak had never been much of a reader, himself, the practice being far too sheltered and passive for his liking. It wasn't that he didn't see the value in reading and studies, but he much preferred to leave the scholarly pursuits to those who were so inclined, and Murata was certainly one of those.

Strangely, though, Murata had never fit Yozak's picture of a typical bookworm. He was wise and brilliant, certainly, but unlike your average pale-skinned academic who recoiled at the very sight of the sun, Murata didn't take his studies so disturbingly _seriously_. He studied like he did everything else: with an air of amused reflection, as if he were noting that the highly esteemed, expert author was actually quite full of hot air.

Yozak glanced around the corner of a sturdy bookshelf, and spotted Murata standing at one of the library's few windows, looking contemplative as usual. He appeared to be gazing down at the courtyard, but it was difficult to tell, what with the rays of sunlight reflecting off his glasses. Yozak often wondered if Murata truly needed to correct his vision, or whether he wore them more for aesthetic purposes.

"You didn't waste much time, did you?" Murata said without turning.

Yozak smirked as he stepped out into the small alcove, taking note of the well worn armchair and comparatively good lighting in this area – it seemed that this was a regular haunt for the Sage. A small table sat in the center of the arrangement; the still-steaming kettle of tea and the twin cups beside it told Yozak that Murata had certainly expected him at this exact time.

"You know I can't resist any invitation issued under secretive and mysterious circumstances," Yozak replied, his tone equal parts playful and inquisitive.

Murata smiled, turning to look at Yozak. "Indeed, I do." He walked over to the armchair, gesturing for Yozak to sit as well. "Tea?" he offered.

Yozak had to chuckle; he wasn't much of a tea drinker, usually, but he could smell that this particular tea was brewed from Panta leaves, one of the few things that would grow in the barren place where he had been raised. His mother had brewed this tea often to stave off cold and hunger, and it was the only tea that Yozak ever conceded to drink. So he nodded and took a seat on the adjacent sofa, not for a moment believing that the beverage choice was coincidental. Murata poured the tea and added three lump sugars and a touch of cream to one of the cups, which he passed to Yozak nonchalantly.

Never underestimate the Great Sage's powers of observation.

"So," Yozak began after a moment, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your request to see me, Your Highness?"

Murata met Yozak's eyes over the rim of his teacup at the mention if his title. It was the same look they exchanged every time he addressed Murata in that way. "Tell me, what are your thoughts on the situation with Saruma Koku?"

"You mean aside from the fact that their king is in sore need of a good, hard kick in the ass?"

Murata chuckled, but continued to wait for Yozak to elaborate. Yozak chose to take that as the silent agreement of one too tactful to voice it. He could tell that was what just about everyone had been thinking throughout the entire meeting they'd just had with Lord von Voltaire, and as far as Yozak was concerned, a healthy amount of honesty was exactly what the doctor ordered. In any case, it absolutely had to be better than the current strategy of inviting the man to supper and begging that he use a modicum of rationality in his dealings with Shin Makoku.

Yuuri hadn't seen it that way at all, though. When he'd been told that King Ormond, who was only three months into his reign, was threatening to leave the Alliance if their treaty was not "renegotiated," of course the kiddo had immediately started to advocate the waving of every olive branch available at Saruma Koku. Gwendal had tried to explain that Ormond was likely just trying to demonstrate his power as the new monarch and that the issue should simply be ignored, but Yuuri, predictably, was having none of it. He had insisted that Ormond be invited to Covenant Castle for a discussion immediately. The debate had raged for about an hour, during which Yozak had tried to contain his amused grin at the spectacle of Yuuri preaching from his soapbox while the rest of the assembled looked on, their expressions ranging from tolerance to irritation. The whole thing had ended with Gwendal's declaration that he would have no part of any such foolishness, but that if Yuuri refused to listen to reason that was his prerogative as the Maou. After that, the knitting needles and yarn came out of Gwendal's top left drawer, and plans were initiated to invite King Ormond for a peaceable discussion as soon as possible.

Most people would probably judge that this particular situation had disaster written all over it. Yozak's foremost opinion was that it seemed that things were about to get interesting around here, finally.

"I think," Yozak began in his second attempt to answer Murata's question, "that the kiddo has his work cut out for him. From what I know, once you get beneath the layer of slime, Ormond is pretty cunning. He has a reputation for always getting what he wants."

"As does Shibuya," Murata agreed with a smile. "So I gather that you share Lord von Voltaire's belief that Shibuya won't be up to the challenge?"

"Do you think I would dare imply something so openly disrespectful?" Yozak asked with a grin that, despite his best efforts, probably did not come off as entirely innocent.

"Absolutely," Murata said without any hesitation. "And that's exactly why I invited you here."

All pretense of innocence was entirely lost in the smirk Yozak shot Murata. "I suppose my secret's out, then. I take it you've finally found a proper use for my devastatingly quick wit?"

"Perhaps. But today, it's the rest of you that interests me."

Yozak arched an eyebrow at the statement, unable to decipher whether Murata's smile was intended to accommodate Yozak's sense of humor, or to allude to something far more fascinating. A bit of both, more than likely. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," Murata went on, "that there's no harm in giving Shibuya a bit of a nudge in the right direction. He deserves this chance to prove himself. Shibuya may not have Lord von Voltaire's vast tactical knowledge, but he was selected as Maou for a reason and he is capable of guiding Shin Makoku. But in order for everyone believe in him, Shibuya must prove that he is able to handle certain situations on his own. As such, it is imperative that Shibuya succeed in this endeavor with Saruma Koku."

"And how, exactly, am I to be of service?"

Murata smiled again, this one meant to give a distinct appearance of guilelessness…if one were to overlook that gleam in his eyes. "You're going to help make sure that he succeeds."

"Why, Your Highness!" Yozak gasped in his best scandalized voice. "You're not asking me to ignore Lord von Voltaire's express orders, are you?"

Just after Yuuri had left Gwendal's office in triumph, Gwendal had ordered Yozak to keep King Ormond under tight surveillance during his stay at the castle – a mind-numbing assignment if ever there was one. Yozak never ceased to be amazed that a typical nobleman could spend such a large portion of the day sitting around engaged in useless chitchat and other pointless activities. It was incredible that people who never did anything could gossip for hours on end.

Murata chuckled. "I would never dream of it. I'm asking you keep an eye on him, as well...in a manner of speaking."

Yozak gave Murata a sidelong glance as he sipped at his tea. "Oh?"

Murata cleared his throat and set his cup on the table. "Well, to come right to the point, Lord Ormond has a reputation as quite the 'playboy.' Simply put, I would like you to distract him. Make sure that when he meets with Shibuya, his mind is…elsewhere."

"And how would you suggest I do that?" Yozak didn't really need any ideas; he had quite a wide repertoire of methods to distract a perverted nobleman. But the temptation to hear Murata spell it out, in his own charmingly enigmatic way, was too great to pass up.

Murata winked at him, but Yozak couldn't quite say for sure what Murata meant by it. "Use your imagination. I'm sure that someone as resourceful as you are will come up with something."

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Nothing in the world could possibly be duller than one of Lord von Kleist's parties. Truly, the man had no idea what real fun was. Between all these inedible hors d'oeuvres with unpronounceable names and the stuck-up nobility in their frilly get-ups, the whole affair just smacked of typical aristocratic pretentiousness. And just _try_ finding a decent glass of whiskey.

Although, there was one thing to be said about this particular occasion…it gave Yozak an excuse to wear his new silk stockings and the sweet little stilettos that had been sitting for months, useless, in his closet. However, that was the sole upside to the evening so far, because as of three hours into this shindig he hadn't spotted King Ormond once.

What kind of guest skipped his own welcoming reception, anyway? Granted, Ormond hadn't even wanted any sort of welcome, but Lord von Kleist and tradition had overruled him. As it was, the reception was already being held early; typically, the parties were held after the successful signing of a treaty, not before the discussions ever took place. But Ormond had insisted that he was leaving before the ink on the new treaty was even dry, so tradition had to be somewhat flexible in this instance.

Yozak shoved his way past yet another potential suitor, not even bothering with any bit of politeness by this point. Noblemen were as thick-headed as they were relentless, and much as he'd love to teach them each an unforgettable lesson in how to treat a lady, it simply wasn't the time. He needed to find the greasy little man before it was too late to keep his promise to His Highness.

If someone had asked him three days ago, Yozak never would have believed that the Great Sage of all people would ask him to use sex appeal to aid in the quest for justice, or whatever it was the kiddo called it. He'd always known that Murata wasn't above being sneaky, or even practicing the fine art of telling people only what they needed to know, in order to meet a larger goal. But for some reason, he'd been surprised that Murata had asked him to manipulate Ormond in such a way. Yozak blamed his misjudgment of Murata entirely on the innocent smile and the schoolboy glasses.

Not that Yozak was disappointed, mind you. He just never expected that Murata had it in him. Really, it was rather refreshing to finally be working with someone who wasn't afraid to do what was necessary to go after what he wanted. Yozak could definitely relate to that, and it was a perspective that was so unfortunately scarce around the castle lately. Walking the straight and narrow was honorable and all that, but it left so little room for originality.

After dodging a few more rather heavy-handed advances, Yozak spotted a flash of black cloth weaving in and out of the crowd. He smiled and snapped his ornate folding fan open, wondering if Murata would even recognize him when he was all dolled up like this.

Murata noticed him a few seconds later, and quickly came rushing over. "Good evening, my Lady," he said with a playful smile and a slight bow.

"It is, isn't it?" Yozak replied in a perfect falsetto honed by years of practice.

"I must say, you look lovely tonight," Murata declared.

Yozak glanced down at his dress, a pale yellow corset-style gown, and scoffed. "How rude. Everyone knows that pink is my color."

Murata chuckled. "Of course. How thoughtless of me. How are you finding the reception?"

"Criminally dull," Yozak replied, stifling a well-placed yawn. "You wouldn't happen to know anyplace that a dignified lady such as myself could find a bit of fun, would you?"

A haughty smirk flashed across Murata's face, but was so brief that Yozak almost missed it. "I might have a few ideas."

Murata stepped forward, moving to walk past Yozak, who lowered his fan over his mouth in anticipation of a brief exchange. Murata brushed against his left side, but it was far more than the shoulder bump that Yozak had thought Murata was aiming for. Yozak felt unexpected warmth on his side as Murata pressed against him, leaning in far too closely to be explained away by the dense crowd, so tightly that Yozak could feel Murata's heartbeat against him.

"Look to your left: Blue robe, white trim." The words sent a whisper of breath dancing across Yozak's neck, and just a hint of a shiver down his spine. But then the warmth slid away, and Murata disappeared into the crowd behind him.

Well, then. That action seemed a bit more friendly than was necessary for an exchange of information, and if Yozak wasn't mistaken, he'd even felt a hand gently resting on his leg for a brief second. That definitely threw the shy schoolboy image out the window. Yozak wasn't exactly sure whether Murata was actually trying to come on to him or just making a point, but he'd succeeded either way.

Perhaps Yozak looked better in yellow than he gave himself credit for.

Looking to his left and dragging his mind back to the business at hand, Yozak easily spotted a man with dark blond hair wearing an elaborate blue robe with white trim and far too much jewelry to be tasteful. Belief that extravagance is the measure of one's importance was rather typical of those who were out to establish themselves as big name nobility. Not surprisingly, these same people tended to be as arrogant as the year was long.

But whatever breed of snob he was, Ormond was no match for Yozak, especially when he was wearing such fabulous shoes.

Yozak plastered a wide smile on his face and started over toward Ormond, already planning his strategy. After two steps, though, he paused…his left stocking seemed to be slipping. He couldn't possibly flirt appropriately when he was minus one stocking.

After a short walk to the powder room, Yozak pulled up his thick skirt to figure out what had happened. His first instinct was to laugh, but he managed to restrain himself to a wry snicker.

"Oh, my," he said, his falsetto just a bit higher pitched then usual. "I wonder how this could have happened?" He proceeded to bend down and fix his wayward left stocking, which had mysteriously become detached from its garter belt on both sides.

Yes, he must have looked very good tonight, indeed.

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It turned out that Ormond was a rather tough nut to crack, even for Yozak. No matter what Yozak said, or how shamelessly heavily he flirted, the man was showing no interest. Yozak was rather baffled by the whole thing; he'd had his fair share of problems on assignments before, but this was one arena where he'd never failed to nail it, so to speak. It was a terribly unfamiliar experience for him to be sitting all but in a man's lap and yet be overlooked.

Yozak was at his wit's end. He'd tried everything: the fluttering eyelashes, crossing his legs with a flip of his gown, laying his hand on Ormond's shoulder, and even his knee once desperation set in – the guy seemed oblivious. Even more insulting, he kept scanning the crowd, as if he were looking for someone else...which was entirely ridiculous, because the best looking person here by far was sitting right next to him, practically serving herself up as a free lunch. Honestly, the man was no prize, himself, with his greasy hair and wiry moustache and crooked, stained teeth…not to mention his fingernails! In Yozak's opinion, someone who had bitten their nails to the quick was in no position to be snobbish.

If there was one thing Yozak hated, it was being ignored. King Ormond was damn lucky that Yozak had a mission to accomplish; otherwise he might've had a drink thrown in his face by now, at the very least.

"So, how well are you acquainted with the royalty of Shin Makoku?" Ormond demanded, shooting Yozak a disinterested look.

Yozak blinked once, somewhat shocked that Ormond was finally addressing him. He recovered quickly, flashing an inviting smile at the revolting little man. "Not so well as I intend to get to know you, Your Majesty," he crooned, trying not to grind his teeth in frustration as Ormond turned back to the crowded ballroom. Who the Hell did he think he was?

"I saw you with the Great Sage before, madam. Am I to understand that you are not in his service?"

Yozak fought the urge to scowl at the implication that he was some sort of trashy concubine in heat. The nerve of this man! "Oh, Your Majesty, you're so observant! But at this moment, I'm far more interested in hearing about you than the Great Sage."

Ormond didn't respond, so Yozak casually laid a hand on his thigh, deciding that this was as much of an invitation he was going to get. Ormond drew a quick breath and tensed, and Yozak couldn't help but grin in smug satisfaction that he'd _finally_ been able to drag a reaction out of the man. Yozak turned to his target with a coy smile on his lips, ready to drive his point home and get this over with.

Yozak's smile became a scowl when he realized that Ormond wasn't looking at him at all. He was staring into the crowd, his eyes widened in recognition; evidently, he'd seen whoever he was looking for. Yozak pushed back a surge of irritation as he followed Ormond's gaze, curious by this point as to what could possibly be so much more interesting than he was.

Yozak covered his startled gasp by bringing a gloved hand to his mouth and coughing daintily. If Yozak wasn't mistaken – and he wasn't – Ormond was looking directly at…

Yozak felt himself tense a bit, all of his frustration finally boiling over. "Whoops!" he squeaked as he overturned his champagne glass, spilling its contents all over Ormond's lap. He couldn't help the small, satisfied smile that crossed his face for a split second as he watched the liquid seep into Ormond's trousers. With any luck, they would shrink three sizes when laundered.

"You clumsy little…!" Ormond was squawking at him, but Yozak had already risen from his chair and was walking away, trying hard not to laugh at the enraged expression on Ormond's face.

"My apologies, Your Majesty, I'll go get a towel right away!" he called out over his shoulder as he made a hasty exit, barely giving any consideration to the fact that he was being extremely rude. It seemed as though his mission was doomed to fail, anyway, so there was no use in wasting any more time.

As Yozak hurried off in search of the Great Sage, he wondered why neither of them had considered that Ormond's reputation as a "playboy" might imply a more literal meaning.

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"You spilled your drink on him?" Murata repeated, clearly confused as to how that action was productive.

Yozak crossed his arms beneath his fake – yet perfect – breasts. "He's lucky it wasn't hot cider I dumped in his lap. I don't remember that last time I was so insulted."

Murata chuckled a bit, pressing a finger to his lips in a pensive pose. "Well, you've certainly caught his attention now, haven't you?"

"Fat lot of good it does me, though." Yozak huffed, unable to keep the hint of annoyance out of his voice. Not that he cared what that disgusting man thought of him, but he wasn't used to failure. "I have a sinking feeling that I'm not his type. Well, I am, but I'm not, if you catch my meaning."

Murata tilted his head inquisitively. Knowing him, he probably did catch the meaning, but it seemed that he wanted Yozak to actually say it.

"Let's just say that I don't think King Ormond is much of a 'ladies' man,' Your Highness." Yozak paused, wondering what Murata would do with this next piece of information, "in fact, I'd say he's only interested in one particular person."

The inquisitive look became one of casual amusement. "And who, pray tell, would that be?"

"That would be you, Your Highness." At least it was Murata that Ormond had been staring at – Yozak couldn't imagine the blow his pride would have taken if he had been being ignored in favor of someone unattractive.

To Yozak's surprise, Murata began to laugh quietly. "Well, why didn't you say so? Come on, we're wasting time standing around here; the reception will soon be over," he said as he started back toward the ballroom.

Yozak stood still for a moment, somewhat taken aback that Murata was so offhand about it. The Great Sage was just full of surprises lately. "Uh, Your Highness?"

"Yes?" Murata asked, pausing just before he opened the door to leave the waiting room.

"Does this mean that you intend to…"

"Let him maneuver his own way right out of a new treaty? Of course I do. And I know I don't have to ask if you're up for it," Murata finished with a conspiratory smile. With that, he opened the door and walked out into the ballroom, leaving the door open in a silent invitation for Yozak to follow.

A grin quickly formed on Yozak's face, somewhere between a respectful smile and a knowledgeable smirk. If Murata wanted to walk down that road, Yozak was more than willing to see where it led them. It would undoubtedly be great fun, whether Ormond conceded to play their little game or not…not that he had any choice in the matter, particularly.

And anyway, it seemed a waste to spend the rest of the evening sitting in the waiting room. A dress like this just begged to be put to good use, even if not exactly as he had intended.

Yozak smiled and smoothed out the material of his skirt as he walked towards the door. "I'm always up for anything, Your Highness!"

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There was something different about entering the ballroom this time. There was no set plan, no precedent, no direction to follow; just the knowledge that Yozak would have to make this up as he went along. He couldn't tell whether it was the enthusiasm or the anticipation that put the extra sway in his hips, but damned if it didn't feel wonderful.

Yozak snapped his fan closed and pulled a handkerchief out of his corset as King Ormond came into view. Judging by the smarmy grin he wore, Ormond seemed to be much more agreeable now that Murata was seated next to him. He had no reservations whatsoever about leering at the Great Sage of his host nation; he appeared to think quite a lot of himself, although Yozak could find no logical reason why.

Murata glanced up at Yozak, casually waving a hand to summon him over. "And where have you been all this time, my dear?" Murata asked, the roguish glint in his eyes entirely contradicting his innocent smile. "It seems that you've made quite a mess of our guest."

Yozak hurried up to Ormond, handkerchief in hand. "Your Majesty, my deepest apologies. It seems that I was a bit…distracted," he said softly, lowering his eyes demurely, exactly as he knew Murata wanted him to. He leaned down as if he were about to wipe at the champagne stain on Ormond's trousers, hoping that Murata would intervene before he had to touch the man again.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Yozak concentrated on blushing prettily as he looked up at Murata with wide eyes. "If you don't mind, my Lady, I think I'll handle things from here," Murata told Yozak as he took the handkerchief. "But I think I should keep a close eye on you for the rest of the evening." Murata patted the space next to him on the small bench, and Yozak took his seat, flaring his skirt about as he did so, just for the fun of it.

"I do hope you'll forgive my friend," Murata said, directing his attention to Lord Ormond. "I requested that she entertain you while I was otherwise occupied. Seems she was a bit intimidated by you."

Yozak tried not to scoff too loudly. Intimidated? Hardly.

"And you're not?" Ormond seemed delighted at this, though whether he wished to be found intimidating or not was unclear.

Murata flashed a wide smile at Ormond. "It is the Maou's wish we have a close relationship…Shin Makoku and Saruma Koku, that is," he added, almost as an afterthought. Yozak allowed himself a small smirk; he supposed it didn't matter, as Ormond still wasn't paying the least bit of attention to him.

Not yet, anyway. With that thought, Yozak shifted in his seat, leaning toward Murata until their shoulders were touching. Sure enough, that caught Ormond's attention, and he gave Yozak a healthy glare. Yozak grinned in response, acting as if he had no idea why Ormond could possibly be so displeased.

"And you wish for that, as well?" Ormond said, probably attempting to sound alluring but failing completely.

To Yozak's surprise, and Ormond's too, by the looks of it, Murata reached over and began to dab at the champagne stains on Ormond's trousers. "I think a good relationship is based on our ability to fulfill each other's mutual needs," Murata purred. His lowered gaze was a perfect mix of passivity and confidence…exactly what Ormond, or any nobleman with a horribly fragile ego for that matter, was after.

Ormond flushed a bit, but didn't look disappointed in the least about Murata's hand in his lap, nor in the assertiveness Murata was showing. Yozak watched as Murata dabbed at his guest's trousers, the movements of his hand designed to entice with such subtlety that it seemed as if he were doing it completely unintentionally. The exquisite skillfulness of Murata's actions was lost on Ormond, of course; he was quite oblivious to everything except the feelings that seemingly innocent touch elicited. Yozak found himself rather impressed, and more than a bit turned on. Where had Murata been stowing this unused flirtatious energy for all this time?

"So the question, Your Majesty," Murata said softly, "is whether you wish to pursue that type of relationship. We certainly hope that we will demonstrate our desire to do so." Another deliberate swipe of the handkerchief resulted in a sharp intake of breath from their guest.

Ormond nodded absently, but didn't appear to be listening. Yozak could imagine that it might be difficult to concentrate when a cute boy was rubbing at your thighs. Not that he'd be distracted by something such as that.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Lord Ormond?" Murata said, his voice dripping with suggestiveness as he leaned closer to Ormond. An affirmative hum came from deep in Ormond's throat, but evidently it was not a clear enough answer for Murata's taste.

"The reception," Murata clarified.

"Oh…yes." No sooner had Ormond said the words than Murata abruptly pulled the handkerchief away and began to neatly fold it. Murata sat back in his chair, his expression devoid of all evidence that he had been expertly seducing someone moments ago. Yozak stifled a laugh at the completely flummoxed look on Ormond's face.

"Wonderful," Murata said as he sat up straight, all traces of seductiveness now gone from his voice. "Well, the stain is as clean as I can make it. You might want to send those to our laundry, my Lord."

Ormond blinked, caught off guard by Murata's sudden change in demeanor. He gave Murata a look that was a mixture of annoyance and curiosity as Murata smiled innocently at him. Truly, there was no better way to agitate a man than to dangle a coveted prize in his face only to snatch it out of reach at the right moment.

"And you, my dear," Murata began, turning to Yozak and placing a hand on his arm. "Let's try to be a bit more careful in the future, hm?"

"I am deeply sorry for the trouble, Your Highness." Yozak lowered his eyes, mostly because he was about to burst out laughing at the way Ormond was scowling at him.

"Indeed you should be, after using Lord Ormond to make me jealous." That last word was said with a sort of indistinct emphasis, a subtle underlying meaning, and it made Yozak wonder who, exactly, Murata was trying to seduce.

"A lady can only stand being ignored for so long, after all," Yozak said, loud enough for Ormond to hear but softly enough that it seemed as if he hadn't intended to be overheard. Yozak leaned into Murata's touch, as much by instinct as by design.

"I'll make it up to you shortly," Murata replied, giving Ormond a sidelong glance. Yozak looked away deferentially as Ormond glared at him over Murata's shoulder, and was surprised to feel warm breath against his ear.

"You know, we should introduce him and Shibuya. Wouldn't that be a sight?" Murata whispered to him mischievously.

Yozak gave a quick glance at Ormond, to ensure that he hadn't heard. He tilted his head, brushing his lips against Murata's ear to whisper his reply. "If we did, I think my Captain might do our guest the honor of detaching his head from his shoulders. I've been contemplating it, myself."

Murata chuckled, sending a puff of breath along Yozak's neck. "No need for drastic measures; he's submitting nicely. But wouldn't it be more your style to smother him in your skirts?"

"What a shame all my passionate energy is being wasted on this pompous windbag," Yozak agreed, not sure what to make of the fingertips that were caressing just above his knee. It was a gentle, yet commanding touch…slow movements that were more thoughtful than exploratory. Yozak somehow felt as if Murata might be able to learn someone's most intimate secrets via his fingertips.

Ormond was still snarling, Yozak saw from the corner of his eye, but Murata seemed in no hurry to end their whispered conversation. Yozak wasn't in any particular hurry, either; there was something about the way Murata's hair tickled his chin that made him quite comfortable exactly where he was.

"You'll have to focus your energies elsewhere." Murata's tone was huskier now, seductive in a far different manner than the one he used on Ormond.

Not one to be passively seduced, Yozak couldn't help but give His Highness a little something to keep him company during the long night ahead. "Did you have something specific in mind?"

Murata pulled back with a secretive smile, but one that could have been interpreted as either lighthearted joking or intrigued curiosity. "If you want my undivided attention," he said, obviously intending for Ormond to hear, "I'm afraid you'll have to wait. I wouldn't want to be a poor host."

Yozak returned Murata's smile with his most charming one. As was true in most cases, the Great Sage was not easy to interpret. However, Yozak fully intended to find out exactly what was going on in that pretty little head, and if he had to resort to more blatant flirtation to get his answers, so be it.

Turning back to Ormond, Murata's expression became much more serious. "Is there anything I can do for you to make your stay here more comfortable, Lord Ormond?" he asked matter-of-factly.

Ormond's face fell a bit, obviously disappointed that Murata was suddenly all business. After a brief moment, something occurred to him and he brightened considerably. "Well, I've heard miraculous things about the baths here in Shin Makoku. Perhaps you could give me a tour tomorrow before the negotiations?"

Murata smiled easily. "I'd be honored, Lord Ormond. I'll meet you after breakfast. Now, if you'll excuse us, I think that we should retire for the evening."

Murata then stood and offered Yozak his hand, paying no attention to the disturbing smile that Ormond now wore. Yozak rose, curtsied politely and wished Lord Ormond a restful evening before allowing Murata to escort him from the ballroom. Ormond was leering at Murata from behind, and Yozak found that eager grin to be positively repulsive. It distantly occurred to him that perhaps his pride might be a bit damaged because Murata had succeeded so effortlessly when he had been unable to.

Once out of the ballroom, Yozak turned to Murata, hands on his hips in a posture that probably looked rather like he was scolding his superior. "Your Highness, are you quite sure you want to meet Ormond in the baths?"

Yozak paused, a bit surprised at himself. He hadn't meant to sound quite so… protective. It wasn't that Yozak thought that Murata couldn't handle himself, not in the least. But for too many reasons to mention, the idea of him alone in the bath with that sleazy man was just distasteful.

Murata favored Yozak with a wry smirk. "Why, Yozak, are you concerned about me?"

"No. I'm concerned about what Lord von Voltaire will do when he discovers that I allowed you to do this alone."

"You're planning on ducking out? I hadn't figured you for the squeamish type," Murata teased, shaking his finger at Yozak teasingly.

Yozak couldn't help but smile at Murata's teasing. "Not willingly, but I can't very well disguise myself in the baths. Even my talent has its limits."

Murata made a dismissive gesture. "I don't see a problem with that," he added, his voice brimming with what might possibly have amounted to an invitation…or was it just harmless banter?

"So," Murata continued, walking away without waiting for an answer, "I'll see you tomorrow after breakfast. Sweet dreams."

Yozak watched Murata walk down the corridor, shaking his head in both admiration and bewilderment. He was amazed that Murata was able to have such a conversation so candidly …he knew that Murata was no innocent, but to request a liaison in the baths without even blushing? If Yozak didn't know better, he'd think he lost his touch; goodness knows that the mental image of him in the bath should have been able to coax a blush out of anyone, Great Sage or otherwise.

But then, come to think of it, Yozak couldn't recall a time when he'd ever seen Murata blush. Well, in that case, he'd just have to change that. Just how much would it take, Yozak wondered, to get a reaction out of the Great Sage?

Well, nothing for it but the good old fashioned practice of trial and error. He loved experiments where each failed attempt would be just as much fun as the one that finally succeeded.

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Breakfast went rather smoothly, or so it would appear to the casual observer, which Yozak was most certainly not. He could see the subtle tension in Yuuri's shoulders as he tried to sweet-talk Ormond in his typical Yuuri-like way, which resulted in more awkwardness than anything else. Ormond, for all his sleazy looks and personality, or perhaps because of them, was rather cunning, always managing to evade Yuuri's attempts at civility and preferring to make little digs at Yuuri whenever possible. He was already asserting his subtle manipulations over the Maou, and Yuuri had become more and more flustered throughout the meal.

It seemed that they all had their work cut out for them.

Yozak slipped into the bath, wearing both a towel around his hips and an expression far too serious for someone about to meet an adorable young man in the bath for a flirting session. He had to admit, he was concerned. This Ormond character was underhanded in the worst way, and if Yozak allowed something to happen to the Sage…well, let's just say that Lord von Voltaire's tedious assignments would be the least of his concerns.

Yozak balanced a small tray on one hand as he turned around slowly, scanning the baths for Murata. Ice rattled against the sides of the pitcher as the water sloshed around a bit – it wasn't too terribly hot in the baths, but warm enough that a cold drink might be appreciated. Plus, Yozak had learned long ago that it could never hurt to have something handy that he could improvise with, if need be.

After a moment, Yozak spotted Murata…not in the bath, but rather in the steam room. He also had a towel around his waist, and was seated on one of the benches. Ormond looked to have just arrived, thank goodness, because he was just sitting down next to Murata, mercifully far more covered by his long, thick towel than Yozak had feared. As Yozak entered, Ormond shot him a surprised and irritated glance, but Yozak's presence didn't stop him from openly groping Murata's knee.

Honestly. The man had no skill at all. But at least it didn't appear that he recognized Yozak.

"Oh, Yozak, I see you decided to accept my invitation," Murata said in a more-than-friendly voice. Yozak thought that he looked a little relieved, but that might have been his eyes playing with him.

"How could I refuse, Your Highness?" Yozak placed his tray on the bench and sat on Murata's other side, sparing a moment to indulge in a glance at His Highness. Murata was quite a sight, what with being barely covered and coated with sweat, leaning against the backrest with his elbows casually propped up on the ledge. Between the damp locks of hair that clung to his neck and the relaxed yet alluring smile on his face, Yozak had a very strong impulse to lean down and lick those beads of sweat right off of him.

But unfortunately, duty had to come first. As much fun as tormenting Ormond admittedly was, it would have been much more fun to discover what kinds of noises Murata made when someone nibbled his ear.

"Lord Ormond, this is my…friend, Yozak," Murata said, his tone designed to imply that they were much more than friends. "I requested that he join us this morning."

Ormond grunted in response, unhappy that his second opportunity at Murata had been foiled by yet another meddlesome concubine. Yozak grinned cheerfully at him.

"What did you think of breakfast, Lord Ormond?" Murata asked offhandedly.

Ormond brightened at being shown a bit of attention…not unlike a dog begging for scraps from his master, Yozak thought. "Oh, it was wonderful. I was glad to finally be able to sit down with the Maou, as well. How nice that you have selected such a…simple person to lead you."

Murata's smile never faltered, but for a fleeting instant he cast a nasty glare at Ormond out of the corner of his eye. The next moment, it was gone. "The Maou is very concerned with everyone's comfort and happiness. I suppose that might be a simple idea, but it has brought him the adoration of his people."

"I meant no offense," Ormond said, his insincerity completely obvious. "I only assumed that the Maou would be someone clever and captivating, like yourself."

Murata laughed, feigning embarrassment. "Such flattery is hardly necessary," he told Ormond. Yozak noted with satisfaction that Murata could never be made to blush by Ormond's clumsy attempts at seduction. Ormond should leave such matters to those better able to meet the challenge.

"Yozak, you've brought drinks with you?" Murata asked, eyeing the pitcher with considerable interest and a knowing smile. It seemed that Yozak wasn't the only one who liked to improvise.

"I thought you might be thirsty, Your Highness. Allow me," Yozak offered, gracefully pouring two glasses of ice water. He handed one to Ormond, who made a snooty little huffing sound as he practically ripped the glass out of Yozak's hand. Some of the water splashed over the edge, causing the ice cubes to jingle around.

Well, well. It looked as if Yozak had managed to upset their honored guest. One wondered how someone so disdainful could manage to run a country – Yozak had the sudden desire to upend Ormond's glass over his head and issue a snide remark that he seemed to need some cooling off.

Yozak fought the urge to smirk as a positively ingenious idea came to him. What better way to put Ormond in his proper place than to exploit the man's jealous tendencies?

He handed the second glass to Murata, but kept a hold on the glass even as Murata wrapped his hand around it. With an enchanting smile, Yozak dipped his fingers into Murata's glass and plucked an ice cube from the water…it was already partially melted from all the heat, and would suit his purpose nicely.

Yozak held the ice cube delicately between two fingers as he reached toward Murata, pressing the ice against his forehead. Murata gave Yozak a provocative grin as the ice touched his skin, but then slid his eyes shut and leaned further back in an obvious enticement for him to continue. As Yozak trailed the ice down his cheek and over the curve of his jaw, Murata shivered – whether purposefully or reflexively, Yozak didn't know or care. He slid the ice slowly down Murata's neck, fascinated by the droplets that trickled down his skin as the ice melted against him.

After lingering fleetingly in the hollow of Murata's throat, Yozak traced along his collarbone and then across his chest, leaving a path of wetness stretching across the expanse of smooth, pale skin. Yozak trailed the ice up the other side of Murata's neck, smiling as he inclined his head, inviting the touch. The ice cube was a thin disk now, which Yozak held to Murata's skin with only his first two fingers pressing it down. He softly dragged the ice up the underside of Murata's chin, and then over it, pleased when those rosy lips parted temptingly. Yozak paused on Murata's bottom lip, his movements teasingly drawn out as he leisurely placed what was left of the ice cube into Murata's mouth. Soft lips closed around him, enveloping Yozak's fingers into a welcoming heat. He retracted his fingers slowly, casting a meaningful glance at Ormond as he pulled his fingers away with a slight sucking sound.

"It stifling in here," Yozak explained to Ormond, in a manner that would lead one to think that rubbing ice over someone's body were a perfectly normal way to cool them down.

Ormond was scowling again, which Yozak took as a sign that his brashness had accomplished one of its intended effects. And as for the other intended effect…the pleased expression on Murata's face probably meant that he had enjoyed that. Yozak gave himself a mental pat on the back for a job well done.

Ormond seemed equal parts pissed off and aroused as he turned to look at Murata. "Is there anywhere more private we can go?" he asked impatiently.

"Of course, Lord Ormond," Murata said agreeably. "We have little while before your meeting with the Maou. I have just the place." Murata rose and began to exit the sauna, smiling at Yozak on his way past.

The grin crossed Ormond's face as he watched Murata leave was a sickening mixture of eagerness and fervor, and it made Yozak angry…but also a bit wary. Pleased as he was with Ormond's reaction, Yozak didn't much like the frenzied haste in his eyes. He wanted Ormond flustered enough to screw up the negotiations, but not so much that he might get violent.

Then again, breaking Ormond's arm might not be a wholly unpleasant task, if it came to that. Visiting royalty or not, Yozak was quite prepared to do whatever was necessary to make sure that Ormond kept his filthy hands to himself.

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Yozak thought that the universe must surely be mocking him, because he was back in the library again. It wasn't the most opportune place to be, professionally speaking: every sound echoed into the tall rafters, haphazard stacks of books and papers everywhere made it impossible to spot anything out of place…not to mention how completely boring it was. Yozak was never exactly in his element in the library; but then, he imagined that there were few who were, aside from Murata. Which was, no doubt, exactly the point.

At least Ormond was dressed now…but unfortunately, that meant that Murata was, as well. His black uniform was quite cute, but not nearly as cute as the towel.

"…And this is the Shin Makoku Royal Library, Lord Ormond," Murata explained. "There are scrolls here dating back to the war with Soushu, so we are rather proud of it, as you might imagine."

Ormond looked around disinterestedly. "Why exactly are we here?"

"You said you wanted privacy, Lord Ormond. And there's nowhere more private than the library," Murata said sensibly, playing at naïve ignorance as to what Ormond had meant by "privacy."

Ormond's face fell, and Yozak had to look away to keep from snickering. "This…wasn't what I meant."

Murata blinked in puzzlement. "I must say, I'm confused. You said you wanted to learn about life in Shin Makoku."

"…Yes. But why is this man still with us?"

Yozak rolled his eyes. Ormond could at least _pretend_ not to be a total ass all the time. Yozak suspected that Saruma Koku was about to have one hell of a public relations nightmare on their hands.

"Patience," Murata advised, his tone suddenly breathy and flirtatious once again. "I'm sure that we can come to some sort of…arrangement…soon enough."

"Yes, an arrangement," Ormond repeated. Yozak tried not to gag at the utter delight in Ormond's voice. It was uncanny how every word that came out of Ormond's mouth gave Yozak yet another good reason to use him for a training dummy.

"Good. Why don't you have a seat over there, and we'll go find you a history text to peruse."

"I think I'll accompany you to find the book," Ormond demanded, eyeing Yozak nastily.

Murata playfully shook a finger at Ormond. "Now, Lord Ormond…don't force me to tie you up. Be patient, we'll be but a few moments. And then, I assure you that you'll have what you need." Ormond didn't look convinced, but Murata simply flashed a smile and motioned for Yozak to follow him.

Murata led Yozak past a few of the tall shelves, unconcerned that Ormond was following them and making quite a lot of noise while doing so; sneakiness was evidently yet another thing that was not his forte. Murata paid him no mind, though, as he walked up to one of the library's few windows and hopped up to sit on the windowsill. An inviting smile beckoned Yozak to come closer, and he gladly advanced until he was close enough to touch Murata, should the opportunity arise.

Knowing that his back was to Ormond, Yozak grinned at Murata mischievously. "You'll tie him up?" he asked impishly.

Murata shrugged. "Perhaps you bring that side out of me," he suggested, swinging his legs just a bit in a way that somehow managed to be more alluring than it was childish.

"Why, Your Highness. Your guest is just on the other side of the room!" Yozak took a small step forward, not caring that his words and his actions were completely contradictory. Murata's legs shifted to accommodate him and he moved to stand between them, pressing against the rim of the windowsill.

"I'll handle him in a little while." Murata held Yozak's gaze as he reached up and fingered the leather drawstring on Yozak's collar.

"It's not like you to deny yourself, Your Highness," Yozak said, knowing it was a blatant lie but liking the way it sounded just then. He glanced down and instantly became absorbed in the slow, deliberate movements of Murata's fingers as they coiled around his drawstring. He made no attempt to loosen it, seeming content to curl the string around his fingers and run it between them, as if that little string were the most sensual thing in the world. Yozak was astonished that he could make every little motion seem so damn sexy.

Murata gave Yozak a subdued, yet highly captivating, smile. "Unfortunate, isn't it? But wouldn't it be a mess if I became involved with someone who subsequently became unfriendly with Shin Makoku?"

Yozak leaned forward, planting his hands on the windowsill behind Murata, bringing their eyes level. "So you're waiting to see how the negotiations go? And then what?"

"If they go well, I'll be able to do what I've wanted to do all day," Murata said in a suggestive voice. Yozak smirked, knowing that they probably had quite similar thoughts on exactly what that might entail; obviously a far cry from what Ormond was picturing, judging by the gasp Yozak heard behind him. Funny, how words could conjure up such different images depending on one's perception…one man's kinky liaison was another man's baseball bat to the head of a perverted monarch.

A muffled coughing was heard behind them, followed by the sound of footsteps walking toward the exit. Yozak felt his smile widen slightly as he realized that Ormond was leaving, for whatever reason. But whether Ormond got sick of watching the two of them flirt or whether he just wanted to hurry and get the negotiations over with in order to claim his "prize," Yozak couldn't have cared less. The important thing was that he now had an opportunity to see just where this little game was going.

"I see," Yozak said, acting as if he hadn't heard Ormond leave. "I guess I'd better get my fill of you now, then…seeing as you'll be unavailable later." He inched just a bit closer to Murata, not breaking eye contact as he reached up to take hold of the earpiece of Murata's glasses. He tugged the glasses off gently but quickly and placed them beside Murata on the windowsill. Murata's lips parted slightly and sent a whisper of breath washing over Yozak's face, nearly making him shiver.

"You know, jealousy is very unbecoming." Murata's soft tone was so low that one might have mistaken it for seriousness, but for the playful glint in his eyes.

Yozak leaned in further, tilting and lowering his head so that he could blow cool air on Murata's neck. "If I see any jealous people, I'll be sure to pass that along."

Murata shuddered and leaned over enough to barely brush his cheek against Yozak's ear. "You're so adorable when you're in denial."

"When am I _not_ adorable?" Yozak murmured against Murata's neck, his lips brushing the skin too lightly to be called a kiss. He moved along Murata's neck and then his jaw, enjoying the tingle of anticipation that rushed through him.

"You know, I can't think of a single time," Murata admitted, turning his head encouragingly. Yozak pulled back a little, noticing Murata's lidded eyes and the way his breathing was slightly heavier than before. His gaze was drawn to Murata's mouth as Murata ran his tongue along his lower tip enticingly, and that was all the invitation Yozak needed.

There was a moment, just after their lips met but before the kiss truly began, when they both paused, perhaps considering who was to lead and who would follow. But the moment passed, their eyes slipped shut and they each parted their lips for the other, and then whatever it was didn't matter anymore.

Yozak leaned into the kiss, allowing himself the indulgence of a small moan as warm fingers traced a slow path from his stomach to his chest. The tip of a tongue brushed delicately against his lip as he moved a hand to the small of Murata's back, eliciting a shiver as he pulled them against each other.

Murata leaned his head back as Yozak kissed a path across his cheek and then down his neck, sucking gently on the spot just above his high collar. Fingertips moved along Yozak's waist, caressing him through the material of his tunic, sending a delightful surge of pleasure through him. His idle hand moved to Murata's leg just above the knee, squeezing and massaging and moving its way up his thigh.

He moved, tracing the shell of Murata's ear with his tongue and then closing his lips around the earlobe, his teeth lightly scraping and nibbling. Murata groaned and dig his fingers into Yozak's hips, arching his back so that their chests were pressed together tightly.

Huh. So those were the noises that Murata made when someone nibbled his ear.

Murata turned his head, capturing Yozak's lips once again and wrapping his arms around Yozak's shoulders, pulling them together fully. Yozak's hand slid the rest of the way up Murata's thigh, and he panted slightly as the kiss escalated.

After a long moment, Yozak pulled back to give Murata a satisfied smirk, and then leaned in again – but Murata bent backwards just enough to keep their lips from meeting.

"It's almost time for the treaty negotiations to begin," Murata said with a smile, removing his arms from Yozak's shoulders and pulling away. Yozak gave a light sigh and took a step back as Murata retrieved his glasses and put them back on. Yozak fancied that he had saw a hint of regret in Murata's face, and he couldn't help smiling at the idea.

"And you're going to go looking like that?" Yozak asked, gesturing at Murata's rumpled uniform.

Murata gave a casual shrug and a composed smile. "It adds to the mystique." He then began to walk toward the exit for the library, straightening his jacket as he went.

Yozak stood still for just a moment, licking his lips to savor the slight taste that lingered there before following Murata toward the exit. If he wasn't mistaken, he was beginning to take a bit of a liking to the royal library. Imagine that.

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Ormond did notice Murata's somewhat tousled appearance as he and Yozak entered the meeting room; in fact, it seemed to capture his attention quite nicely. Ormond offered a murmured greeting to Yuuri and took his seat across the table, but Yozak would venture that the treaty wasn't the matter of foremost importance in his mind at the moment.

"So, Lord Ormond, I'm so pleased that you agreed to speak with me." Yuuri looked a bit nervous, but he had that sincere smile plastered across his face like always.

Ormond smirked at Yuuri, but then distractedly looked over at Murata again. "Not at all, Your Majesty!"

"I do hope you've been enjoying your stay in Covenant Castle."

"Yes, very much," Ormond replied, having a visibly difficult time keeping his mind on the conversation at hand.

At least Ormond was distracted…but he didn't seem to be very off-kilter. Unless something changed soon, Yuuri was about to have a very difficult time with this negotiation.

"Good. Forming a friendly relationship based on each other's needs is very important to me. I'm sure that we can come to some sort of arrangement."

Ormond paused after hearing Yuuri's words, and then gave a somewhat more restless glance at Murata. After a moment, he seemed to remember that he was supposed to reply to the Maou, but his words came out as harried and awkward. "…Arrangement? Yes! Of course."

Yozak looked over at Murata, who was wearing in expression that exuded the utmost confidence. A smile slowly formed on Yozak's face; he should have known better than to doubt the Great Sage.

"Something that will satisfy you," Yuuri continued, completely unaware that his words carried a far different meaning for his guest.

Ormond didn't answer, except to swallow uneasily. He seemed quite absorbed in watching Murata slowly remove his glasses and proceed to polish them with the hem of his jacket.

Yuuri looked a little alarmed that Ormond wasn't responding to him. "So…why don't you tell me what is it you want, exactly, and let's see if we can make it happen."

Just then, His Highness started brushing at his trouser leg, his hand sweeping along his thigh and smoothing out the fabric. He casually flicked his tongue out to wet his lips, flashing a sultry look across the room. Ormond took in a gulp of breath a bit too quickly and began to sputter and cough.

"Uh, Lord Ormond?" Yuuri said, sounding more than a bit concerned. "Perhaps you need a cold drink of water…"

The rest of the conversation went similarly, with Yuuri confused and Ormond so flustered that he could barely catch his breath. When Yuuri finally told Ormond that he didn't want to get tied up by any one point of the treaty, Ormond almost choked and Yozak had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Conrart gave him a suspicious look at that, but Yozak simply shrugged and flashed an enigmatic grin, one that he imagined would have been quite fitting on the Great Sage himself.

When Yuuri, oblivious as to what was so upsetting his guest, asked if Ormond wished to discuss any of the terms, everyone seemed quite shocked by Ormond's enthusiastic refusal. Ormond could hardly sit still enough to sign the treaty renewal.

Yuuri smiled at the freshly signed parchment, quite pleased with himself. "Thank you, Lord Ormond, I appreciate you being so flexible."

"Yes, yes. We're done here, then?" Ormond said hurriedly, casting a hungry glance toward Murata.

"We are. I have a carriage prepared to transport you home immediately."

Ormond did a double take at that, and Yozak had to bite his lip again. "…Immediately?"

Yuuri nodded. "You said that you wanted to leave as soon as possible..."

"But…the Great Sage was just going to show me around the castle. I'd hate to disappoint him." Ormond seemed almost frantic in trying to think of a reason that he needed to be around. He looked to Murata, obviously expecting a bit of help.

Murata smiled innocently. "Unfortunately, Lord Ormond, I've been summoned back to the Shrine, so I won't be able to finish the tour. No other men are allowed in the Shrine, after all. You understand."

Ormond's mouth worked silently for a moment, but then he hung his head when he came to realize that there was no avoiding his immediate departure. He had insisted upon leaving, and now there was no reason for him to stay. In a matter of moments, two guards had appeared next to Ormond and escorted him from the room to ready him for his journey. And, just like that, King Ormond of Saruma Koku was gone.

About damn time.

However, Yozak had to admit that Ormond's visit had led to some very interesting things. For instance, he desperately wanted to ask Murata whether he told Yuuri to use those specific phrases, or whether he had predicted what Yuuri would say. He knew that Murata wouldn't tell him easily; keeping secrets was far too much fun. But that wasn't going to stop Yozak from trying to charm it out of him.

What luck that Murata was _very_ good at keeping secrets. Yozak loved nothing more than a challenge.

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On the surface, it seemed just as dull as any other assignment, but Yozak was actually looking forward to this one. Gwendal had seemed a bit suspicious about exactly why Yozak accepted the task with a certain air of interest as opposed to his normal indifference, but Yozak had it brushed off in his typically cavalier manner. He fully intended to accomplish his mission, but if he chose to take a few creative liberties while doing so, what was the harm? What Gwendal didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Yozak whistled to himself as he mentally went through the checklist of items that he took on every assignment: clothing appropriate for both genders, a variety of easily concealed weaponry, his trusty lock picks, his favorite shade of red lipstick, and a vial of perfume from Lady Celi's personal stash, just in case. After a moment's contemplation, he tossed a second pair of stockings into his duffle bag…one never knew when they might come in handy. Rather versatile objects, stockings.

After completing his packing, Yozak picked up his bag of tricks and went to await word of his departure in one of the castle's aptly titled waiting rooms. After a few moments he heard the click of a door latch, and looked up to see Murata entering the room. Yozak gave His Highness a warm smile, which was returned easily.

"Off again, are you?" Murata asked, eyeing Yozak's very full duffle bag.

"No rest for the weary, Your Highness. Lord von Voltaire has instructed me to escort King Ormond back home." And he intended to have quite a lot of fun at the King's expense while doing so, too.

"Ah. Try not to be too hard on him." Yozak smirked at Murata, wondering whether Murata could read him that well or whether the two of them were just that much alike. Both prospects were intriguing in their own way.

"Does that sound like something I would do?" Yozak remarked with an innocuous smile. Truly, he could have been a star in the theater.

Murata chuckled and shook his head, but didn't seem too distraught about the possibility of Ormond suffering a bit more. "I suppose I'll see you in a few days?"

"You'll miss me, then?" Yozak asked, with just the right mix of teasing and sincerity.

Murata shot Yozak an impassive glance. "Terribly."

Yozak gasped in mock offense. "You wound me to my very soul," he lamented with a wry smile.

Murata made a dissatisfied sound. "I certainly hope you're not that fragile. You'll be of no use to me at all!"

Yozak arched an eyebrow at Murata. "It's always the quiet ones," he observed, his mind already brimming with ideas as to what Murata could possibly have had in mind.

One of the heavy doors swung open at that moment; Yuuri and his entourage had the most impeccable timing. Murata stepped away from Yozak as they entered, flashing everyone his normal, friendly smile.

"You haven't left yet?" Gwendal wondered.

"Was just about to, Your Excellency," Yozak said, trying not to smirk as an idea formed in his mind.

"You know, Shibuya," Murata began, turning away from Yozak and toward the rest of the assembly, "I think that now would be a good time to–"

Murata's sentence was interrupted when Yozak smacked him square on the ass, hard enough for a rather loud clapping sound to echo through the room. Yozak effortlessly hefted his duffle bag onto his shoulder and began walking toward the exit, smirking at Murata's barely audible gasp of surprise.

"One for the road," Yozak said with a casual wave. He distinctly heard several snickers from behind him, as well as Yuuri yelling Murata's name in a scandalized tone. In front of him, Conrart was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and lips pursed in a face he only made when trying desperately not to laugh.

"What was that all about?" Conrart asked, barely able to keep his voice steady.

"Never mind, Captain," Yozak replied with a wink. "I'm sure you'll hear all about it soon enough." He gestured toward the exit, the place he well knew was the maids' favorite spot to eavesdrop.

As he walked through the doorway on his way to escort Lord Ormond back to his kingdom, Yozak couldn't resist looking over his shoulder for one last smug glance at Murata. The glare was entirely expected, of course, but there was one other quite noticeable thing about Murata's face in that moment.

So _that_ was what it took to get him to blush.

The End

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Reviews and concrit are appreciated. Thanks!


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